


I Love Myself (I Want You to Love Me)

by FagurFiskur



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, hints of dom Cas, hints of sub Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 23:32:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3187361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas keeps masturbating in their living room. Dean keeps trying (and failing) to ignore it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love Myself (I Want You to Love Me)

**Author's Note:**

> most derivative title every, i know

The first time it happens Dean just stands there and watches.

He's putting away the dishes from breakfast when he hears a noise come from the living room. He shrugs it off and goes back to his chores until he hears another noise, this time unmistakably a groan.

He goes to investigate but freezes as soon as he's poked his head through the kitchen doorway. Because Cas is sitting on the couch with his dick out, stroking it with determined speed and precision.

Soon enough, he's climaxing with a loud keening sound, back arching off the couch. Then, as if nothing happens, he reaches for the box of Kleenex on the table, wipes himself clean, and reaches for the TV remote with his other hand.

All the while, Dean just stands in the doorway and stares, because what else can he do?

Dean doesn't bring it up because maybe Cas figured he wouldn't see it. Maybe he does this all the time, and it's only the one time Dean's actually seen it happen. Why risk the awkward conversation when Dean can just ignore it?

The next time it happens sort of destroys that argument.

They're both sitting on the couch that time, mindlessly channel surfing. Or at the least, Dean is. Then he makes the mistake of glancing to his right.

Cas has his dick out again. He's clearly just getting started, teasing his head in between fast, perfunctory strokes. His hips jerk a bit with every stroke, and Dean suddenly realizes to his horror that he's growing hard himself.

He snaps his eyes back to the TV, but the damage is done. Now he can't help picking up on the wet sound of Cas' hand moving on his dick, the slight hitches in his breath. By the time Cas comes, Dean's dick is throbbing, and it's all he can do not to grind the heel of his hand against it through his jeans.

Instead he ignores it, and Cas, and keeps his eyes firmly on the TV.

Does he need to have a talk with Cas? After all, the dude used to be an angel up until a few months ago. Maybe he just doesn't know any better.

The third time it happens, Dean is all out of excuses.

It's only a couple of days after the second incident, and Dean is getting out of the shower. He leaves the bathroom wearing only a towel and as he passes by the living room, he hears a now familiar sounding groan come from the couch. He comes to a complete stop, dick already perking up.

Just as he's working up the will to keep walking and go back to his bedroom so he can get dressed and give Cas some privacy, he hears Cas say his name.

"What?" Dean chokes.

"Come here."

It's not a command, exactly, more of a request, but Dean still feels compelled to obey it.He goes to the living room, grip tightening uselessly on his towel as it slowly starts to tent, not stopping until he's directly in front of Cas.

They must make a funny picture. Cas sitting on the couch, completely clothed except for his dick, which he's pulled out. And Dean, completely naked aside from the towel around his waist.

"Closer," Cas says, voice low, and that _definitely_ is a command.

Dean licks his lips, and then he's climbing onto the couch, straddling Cas. He can barely belief his own audacity, but Cas just smirks and reaches for his towel. He yanks it away and Dean is naked, his cock jutting out, hard and red and already leaking.

But Cas doesn't reach for it. Instead, he keeps jerking himself off, eyes never leaving Dean's. Dean just stares back, wondering if he should be doing anything, if he should be putting his hands on Cas or himself.

Before he decides on anything Cas comes with a long, satisfied sigh, covering his own fist and quite a bit of Dean's lower stomach with it. Dean's hips jolt unbidden at it, a hot shock pooling in his guts.

Absurdly enough, the first thing he can think of saying is, "You were doing that on purpose."

"Yes," Cas says simply. "I wasn't sure how to make my intentions clear, only that I couldn't be subtle about it."

He doesn't add anything, but Dean can well read the _and it still took a week to pick up on it_ just from his expression.

All right, so Dean is kind of an idiot. But, he reflects, as Cas' hand finally wraps around his dick, wet and slick from his earlier orgasm, he's a damned lucky one.


End file.
